


The Exception

by SpicyGoddess



Series: Shaytham Christmas Fics [3]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Christmas fic, another year another fic lads, i try to fit it into cannon so a lil post rouge, iffy editing sorry ya'll, not really shippy but can be interpreted that way if ya want
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 17:18:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13104867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpicyGoddess/pseuds/SpicyGoddess
Summary: Haytham just wants some peace and quite, but Shay decides to barge in on his night.





	The Exception

For the first time in months the Templar grandmaster had time to himself. While he was working toward his beliefs and taking steps toward creating a better world, he’d be lying if he said the work wasn't taxing. Keeping eyes and ears open everywhere in the new world, as well as effectively corresponding with those back in Europe, took a tremendous amount of effort. Quite frankly he was glad to finally have time to himself. 

 

It was unlikely anyone would unexpectedly drop in, the weather saw to that. The snow outside was blowing furiously, often whistling against the window, trying to enter the home with limited success. Haytham found it to be an annoyance, but better mother nature than an uninvited guest.

 

With thoughts of peace and relative silence in mind he took his journal out of one of the many drawers in his desk. The leather cover was well worn from years of use, not that he minded, it had been a valued possession for years, and even a little wear wouldn't change that fact.  

 

He opened the pages to the last entry, made in August of that year. ‘Had it really been this long?’ he asked himself. Not that he needed to, the answer was scrawled across the page in his hand. Still, very rarely had he gone this long without making some form of entry. 

 

Even more reason to update the old thing.

 

He began to write

 

_ December 23, 1763 _

_ It appears I haven't updated since August , quite out of the ordinary, but the past months have been rather busy. Despite the colonial mentor of the assassins being put out of commission earlier in the year, the remaining lower ranks of the Colonial Assassins as well as those from foreign brotherhoods who are attempting to offset the Templar order here in the colonies. A shame really, they should be attempting to rebuild quietly rather than openly attack our organization. That way they wouldn't have to waste hardly trained children on attempting to take us out.  _

 

_ It truly is a shame to have to see their lives wasted in a po- _

 

The word ended up with a sudden line, as the author was caught off guard by a sudden knock on his door. He sighed in exasperation, and stood, leaving the journal open on the table to give the ink time to dry.

 

He begrudgingly walked down the hall and answered the door. A man dressed in black and red covered with a thin layer of snow on his leather jacket stumbled in. The long coat was recognizable to belong to the one and only Shay Cormac.

 

‘Great.’ Haytham thought, mildly annoyed ‘Exactly who I wanted to see tonight’

 

He prepared himself to have a  brief exchange and get the fellow Templar out of his house as quickly as possible. One night, with no interuptions was all he asked for,but apparently the universe wasn't willing to comply.  

 

Unfortunately for Haytham the Templar pulled down the thin fabric covering his lower face and proceeded to take off his coat and hang it on one of the pegs near the door. 

 

‘Fantastic.’ Thought Haytham, who rather than voicing his true opinion on Shay barging in and making himself at home, asked, rather politely for the circumstance, “What are you doing here Cormac?”

 

Maybe not as polite as he’d normally attempt to be, not that Shay cared. The ship captain cherfully replied “I came to visit you, Master Kenway.” While cheerful, he wasn't ignorant and recognized the slight tone of disdain in the Grandmasters inquiry. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

 

“Not at all.” Haytham managed to grind out.

 

“Great” Shay announced, while Haytham clearly wasn't happy about his visit, he had just given him the equivalent of an okay to proceed with his plans. 

 

‘Wrong answer’ Haytham thought. 

 

Shay plopped himself down on a nearby chair and grinned “I actually had plans tonight, but the weather kind of ruined them.”

 

Haytham, begrudgingly sat in the nearest unoccupied chair, facing the man. “A shame.” He stated with true honesty. If Shay had been occupied by other activities, he probably wouldn't be in the Grandmaster’s home at the moment. 

 

Shay shrugged “Well, I had to improvise…” and with that he held out a...rather poorly wrapped package, which Haytham had been surprised he didn't notice before. Surly the way the edges were sticking up and the creases on it would have been enough of a sight for Haytham to notice.

 

He raised in eyebrow in question and Shay made a motion for him to take it. He did and well...the wrapping job was even worse up close. He wasn't sure if the entire thing had even been covered. “What's this for?” Haytham managed to inquire without voicing his thoughts on Shay's apparent lack of wrapping skills.

 

Shay shrugged “Just open it.” So he did. Inside was a leather journal, similar in size to his own with a wolf’s head neatly carved into the front cover. The work looked professionally done, and the quality was beautiful.  

 

Haytham felt no shame in stating that fact “It’s beautiful...but why?”

 

Shay looked at him, disbelief written across his featured. “Why do you think?”

 

“There’s no special occasion is there?”

 

Shay still stared at him, still in disbelief. “Haytham, it’s Christmas eve.” He stated once he had partially recovered.

 

Haytham would have laughed if the action didn't make him appear unprofessional. He’d stopped celebrating the holiday years ago. He had little reason to. There was no family to celebrate with, he wasn't a religious man, and most of the time it was unlikely any fellow Templar’s actually cared about it. 

 

Shay was an exception apparently.

 

“I’d forgotten.” He stated simply and couldn't help from smiling a little. “Thank you, Shay, but I can’t say I really celebrate the holiday.”

 

Shay, now recovered from his momentary disbelief smiled. “We’ll just have to change that.”

 

Haytham had just resigned himself to an annual interruption from that night to every Christmas then on. Even if he was out of the country the Irishman had managed to find away to pester him on that exact day for years. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this instead of studying for finals, hope its all right. Happens years before Christmas traditions. Also I kinda guessed on timing of stuff so I hope I guessed right. I assumed Achilles got shot in like January or February of 1763ish.


End file.
